


follow me down

by xephyr



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Closet Sex, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xephyr/pseuds/xephyr
Summary: Flynn Fairwind is the most annoying man Shaw has ever met in his life. It doesn't help that he also very grudgingly finds him attractive.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 7
Kudos: 108





	follow me down

The hour is late as he paces below the decks of the galley and most of the crew and its other passengers had turned in for the night as they await their arrival to Boralus, leaving the deck and its passageways blessedly empty. Shaw, ever at work, is planning on using this time instead to write up the reports he needs to turn into Wyrmbane on their return. There’s plenty of time to sleep when he’s dead, after all.

The promise of peace and quiet as he fills out reports in his cabin definitely has its allure after his hectic and chaotic mission in the Zandalari Treasury. The task itself was stressful on its own, but with the addition of the most annoying mercenary he’s ever met, it made it downright exhausting. For the most part Shaw finds himself adaptable to most situations and types of people, but he vows to himself that if he ever has to work with Flynn Fairwind again he will file a formal complaint.

Why no one else complained about his presence was anyone’s guess. Some people find him charming, others find him ridiculously good looking, and others simply ignore him altogether. Shaw desperately wants to ignore him but it’s hard to when he seems to be waiting for him around every corner.

Speak of the devil, and he will appear.

As he rounds a corner into another passageway the object of his current vexations pauses mid step at an intersection, doing a double take and unfortunately spotting him. Maybe he really should think about dying his hair. Shaw would turn on his heel and go back the way he came from, but on a ship like this he knows there’s no real chance of escape. Once Flynn recovers from his brief surprise, he visibly brightens and offers Shaw a wide toothy smile.

“Shaw!” His smooth voice grates at his nerves as he strides towards him purposefully. “You’re just the man I was looking for!”

Before Shaw can even think to react, Flynn moves faster than he expects and traps him between his considerable bulk and the unrelenting wood of the wall behind him and in that same split second, he's being kissed. Hands find their way into his hair and angle his head in such a way where Flynn can truly pillage his slack mouth with his tongue.

Just as soon as it starts, Shaw focuses all the strength he has into his hands that are trapped against Flynn’s chest and_ pushes_ him backwards, gasping for breath as he does. Flynn backs off of him easily and with the grace of a cat as he retreats to a respectful distance, grinning at him in such a self-satisfied way that it makes Shaw want to punch him.

“Can I _help_ you?” His voice is shrill, incredulity twisting his face that he usually tries very hard to keep impassive. He can feel the heat burning at his ears, and he’s sure his face is almost the same shade as his hair.

Flynn beams at him. “Funny you should ask that. I thought maybe we could discuss something.”

“If this is how you discuss things it’s no wonder why your last crew mutinied against you,” He snaps at him, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe his lips.

Annoyingly, Flynn doesn’t take the bait and simply crosses his arms. “We both know that’s not what happened, so now I know you’re just playing hard to get.”

Before he can piece together a snappy retort, his sharp ears pick up the sound of faint but distinct footsteps coming their way. With quick reflexes that have kept him alive and out of danger for as long as they have he yanks open the door behind him and pulls Flynn in by the arm, whirling him into the small room and using his back to slam the door closed.

It’s a small storage area packed with crates and other supplies, and the worrying lack of dust means that it gets a decent amount of foot traffic. Before he can really contemplate the repercussions of his actions by bringing Flynn in here with him in such a cramped area, the man is already moving back into his space.

“Quick thinking, Shaw.” And just like that, Flynn closes the short distance between them again and mouths along the skin of his neck that is exposed. Despite himself, he shivers.

“Are you insane?” He hisses as he feels himself arching up onto his tiptoes into the insufferable heat of the other man’s lips on his skin. Flynn nips at his sensitive skin and Shaw knows he’s leaving marks above his collar, but for some reason he doesn’t immediately stop it.

Flynn hums against against him, beard scratching his neck and electrifying his nerves as he trails up to bite behind his ear. “You must know what you’re doing to me. All that flirting in the vault was driving me crazy.”

He gathers his wits and pushes him back again, hands firmly on his either of huge biceps in a death grip he doesn’t realize he had. There’s hardly any room so he holds him back as far as he can which, as it turns out, is not very far at all. In the dim light he can see Flynn’s gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and pointedly waits until it settles on his eyes.

“If you think that’s flirting, you need serious help.”

“Maybe you can help me, then.” It’s predictable and cliche, and Shaw can’t help but roll his eyes. He slowly inches back into his space, keeping his eyes on Shaw’s face the entire time. “I’m not a barbarian, you know. If you tell me no, I’ll back off.”

It seems like the easiest thing in the world to do but Flynn slides a thick thigh between his legs and he hesitates. Flynn’s eyebrows shoot up inquisitively into his hairline and Shaw rubs a hand over his face, exasperated and defeated, before he pulls the pirate in by his lapels. This might as well happen.

Flynn makes an approving sound against his lips and Shaw flips their positions to regain some semblance of control in this extremely stupid situation and gives him as good as he was given. He’s frustrated, mostly. He’s annoyed with how easily this ex-pirate can rile him up and still be infuriatingly attractive while he does it and he’s _extremely_ annoyed with the sizable erection he feels pressing against his thigh. He roughly palms at it over his pants and Flynn practically whimpers.

He unlaces the front of Flynn’s trousers and bats away the searching hands at the front of his own leather pants, opting to do it himself. He decides right then and there that he doesn’t have all night to entertain this.

“Alright, if I had known you were going to be this receptive I would have tried this ages ago.”

Shaw bites back a groan as he grasps them both in his hand and Flynn practically melts into it, letting his head fall back to rest against the wall with a high pitched whine. With his attention elsewhere, Shaw permits himself to gawk at his absolutely ridiculously huge dick. Apparently there wasn’t a single part of this man that wasn’t insufferable. He had always considered himself fairly average sized but Flynn looked positively monstrous alongside him.

“I get that reaction a lot.” During some point of his silent observation, Flynn had turned his attention back to him. “Some people like it. Others, though, they _love_ it.”

His hand tightens almost painfully around them and Flynn screws his eyes shut, hissing out a pained breath.

“If you don’t shut up I’m leaving you like this,” Shaw growls at him through his teeth and Flynn puts his hands up in defeat.

Shaw sets a fast pace and Flynn claws at his sides desperately before eventually settling on his ass. Flynn keens low in his throat as he dramatically tosses his head back against the wall once more. In a form of revenge that only makes sense to him in that moment, Shaw sucks angry welts into the long expanse of neck that’s presented to him and Flynn’s cock jumps in his hand. The other man’s moans are getting to be a little too loud for his tastes so he clamps a hand over his mouth.

He almost wants to fuck him to teach him a lesson, but it’s neither the time or place and he’s fairly certain it won’t teach him anything. As aggravating as he is, he has to admit that Flynn holds a certain charm as he arches into his hand seeking more friction, eyes shut in pleasure with a faint sheen of sweat appearing on his brow. The fact that he isn’t talking at the moment is probably helping him in that department.

Shaw wasn’t entirely sure how long he could keep this up for, but Flynn was apparently far more worked up than he had originally been led to believe. The insistent hand that had been fondling his ass tugs him closer so their chests are flush with one another and Shaw can’t stop the guttural groan that is forced from his throat.

Flynn bends down to bury his head against Shaw’s shoulder and tenses under him and a moment later is blissfully coming between them. It’s bad sportsmanship, perhaps, but Shaw does his best to have most of the mess land on Flynn’s clothes as opposed to his own. As Flynn comes down from his orgasm Shaw picks up the pace even further to chase his own release which isn’t far behind.

Infuriatingly, Flynn’s hand closes around his wrist to stop him. Shaw huffs in frustration that does not sound anything like a whine before Flynn drops down onto his knees in front of him, giving him a cheeky wink before he takes his cock between his lips and swallows him down to the base in one fluid movement.

It’s more than Shaw can take and his knees nearly buckle under him as his cock twitches and pulses on Flynn’s hot tongue and the other man greedily sucks him for all he’s worth. Flynn continues to lap at him when he’s completely spent and overstimulated and doesn’t let up until Shaw pushes weakly at his shoulder.

Flynn settled back onto his haunches, reaching a hand upwards in a wordless request to help him stand. “Good, right?”

Shaw clasps his wrist and pulls him up onto his feet, frowning disapprovingly. “I don’t want this giving you any ideas.”

“Oh, it’s given me plenty of ideas.”

“Fairwind--”

“Please, I think we’re past that. You can call me Flynn.” He looks down at his shirt and regards his own mess distastefully. “You know, I’m not sure how many times you can wash spunk out of a shirt before you have to toss it out.”

Shaw pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long suffering sigh. “I’m serious. This can’t happen again while I’m supposed to be working.” Flynn looks back up at him with a gleam in his eyes and Shaw realizes what he’s implied. “Or ever,” He snaps almost as an afterthought, and it doesn’t sound very convincing even to his own ears.

Flynn winks at him as he wipes the front of his shirt down with a cleaning rag that he found on the shelf beside them which is arguably much filthier than his own cum. Flynn frowns as he comes to the same conclusion a second after he does but shrugs and continues to wipe himself down with it. “I hear you loud and clear, mate. I promise, the next time this _doesn’t_ happen, it will be behind closed doors. Not that it will happen, of course.”

Once they’ve put themselves together as well as they can (Shaw’s carefully styled moustache was an unforeseen casualty that would have to be dealt with later), Shaw plans to have himself leave the storage hold first and orders Flynn to wait as to not look suspicious. He carefully opens the door and glances down the corridor and is immediately met with a Kul Tiran man idly leaning on the opposite wall picking at his nails as if he’s been waiting there for some time. At the sound of the door opening, he snaps out of whatever daydream he had been lost in.

He gestures behind Shaw in way of an explanation, seemingly not fazed at all at the sight of the Spymaster sneaking out of a storage room with his hair unkempt and sticking out at odd angles. “I needed the broom.”

Shaw is the color of a fully matured Firebloom as he retrieves and shoves the offending broom into the Kul Tiran’s hands with a glare he usually only reserves for people he’s about to kill. To the other man’s credit, he senses the implied threat and hurriedly scurries off.

“I take it that means I can come out now, yeah?” Flynn doesn’t wait for an answer before he steps out and Shaw doesn’t even care at this point, dragging a hand over his face. He vows to himself right then and there that this will _never_ happen again.

Flynn pats him on the shoulder, completely oblivious of the seven stages of mortification Shaw is currently cycling through. “Until next time, Shaw. Or uh, never.”

After that, Shaw locks himself up in his cabin and avoids absolutely everyone for the remainder of the journey.

**Author's Note:**

> I like them.


End file.
